


twitch tok

by stressingbisexual



Series: dude, it's wednesday [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Idiots in Love, M/M, Online Friendship, Panic Attacks, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski-centric, Stiles is a twitch streamer still, Underage Kissing, but like barely underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stressingbisexual/pseuds/stressingbisexual
Summary: Maybe he was reading too much into this? Maybe he wasn’t bi, just bi-curious and he’s such an attention whore that he’s mistaking attention for affection? God knows he’d been accused of that enough.He looked over to Derek, who looked up when he felt eyes on him and raised a brow. “What?”God,he was stupidly attractive though.“I think I like you.” Uh. That had meant to be an inside thought.Derek blinked at him. “Okay.”“No,”shut up, Stiles,“I mean, I think Ilike,like you.”“What’re you, twelve?”“Sexuality is confusing, okay!”





	twitch tok

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so the "twitch" titles are now a thing, I've screwed myself over with this. Pre-warning for titles being absolute nonsense. Can I just say though, like damn I'm not new to fandoms (I am new to this one though) and never have I had such a warm welcome before? Thank you to everyone who commented or kudos, this bit is only here because of you. I have another part planned, one that technically is before the first part -- though hi if you're new, these are pretty much standalone, you can read which ones you please -- but I figured I owed y'all some Sterek after the tease. The other one is Scott and Stiles being bros. 
> 
> I used a couple of names from the comments of the last part as people in the chat - if you see your name there and you're not cool with it, holla and I'll remove. Also kinda semi stole DiscontentedWinter's werewolf idea and bastardised it, sorry!
> 
> And with that word vomit, I hope you enjoy!

It was like after their date (“It wasn’t a date, Stiles. Stop telling people that.”) Derek took it upon himself to simply not allow Stiles to slink off and avoid the pack. The first time he didn’t turn up for a meeting, the pack came to him; it only took one meeting to take place in his bedroom before Stiles conceded defeat to that particular battle. Though he did put his foot down to letting Peter into his bedroom, he didn’t want that creep rolling around in his bed. To be honest, he didn’t want any werewolf in the same room he jacked off in, with Scott being the exception.

And that was only because they had a connection, okay. When you’ve both woken up with morning wood after sharing the same bed, there are no secrets.

And no, Derek didn’t rock up to school to make sure he was eating, but Scott was suddenly up his ass if he didn’t grab something from the cafeteria and one day Stiles snapped and hurled his apple at Isaac's stupid smug little face (Jesus, is this what his dad suffered through with Stiles policing his diet? He suddenly had such begrudging respect for his patience, honestly). Scott went and got another apple and Stiles potentially cracked a molar grinding his back teeth.

“Honestly,” Stiles moaned, speaking around a Red Vine as he chewed, “they’re all insufferable lately. Like, none of us are close to each other— no wait, that’s not true. We’re all separately close to each other, yanno.” A glance at the chat revealed that no, they didn’t know. “Like I’m BBF’s with Scott, Cora’s too busy giving us all the stink eye but is understandably up Derek’s butt, Peter’s a creep but Derek and Cora secretly love him, Isaac’s trying to muscle his way into _my_ spot with Scott, Lydia’s not quite as indifferent to us anymore, in fact I think she loves us all but she’s too chicken to admit it, Kira’s all moony eyed over Scott, Malia still refuses to call venison venison and Derek.” He went silent for a moment, playing through his turn on _Civilizations VI_. “I dunno, man. There’s a reason I call him Sourwolf.”

**bi_bi_bi** donated **$1**!   
he’s at your window

“Dude, are you ever gunna change your name back?” He twisted to look over his shoulder. “And you! I’m starting to think I should put a welcome mat underneath my sill for you.”

“You’re streaming.”

“Acute observation. It’s also Wednesday, what did you expect?” Derek narrowed his eyes at him and wordlessly made himself at home on his bed. “Uhhh, can I help?”

“Not right now, no.”

A donation dinged in his ears but Stiles was too busy internally freaking out because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d washed his sheets. “Okay? So you’re just gunna,” he waved his hand at the bed, “chill out?”

Derek plucked up one of the books he’d had on his side table long enough to gather a layer of dust on it and thumbed it open. “Yup.”

“Oh.” Well. “Alrighty then. I’m gunna be talking, you know.”

“When aren’t you.”

“Rude.” Asshole. He nudged his mic back down from where he’d flicked it up a little and turned back to his laptop, looking wide eyed into his camera. “Well then, ignore the uninvited guest in the background.”

**bi_bi_bi:** you never did tell us how your date went   
**baseskill:** you didn’t!   
**SailorHailor:** you should keep your eye on russia, that peter is right prick, he’s moving in on you   
**JayB:** fuck russia, take over greece   
**xxroadwinning98xx:** hes totally got a crush on you

Stiles snorted. “You’re all so bloodthirsty, I’m Ghandi guys. But also, Peter’s a prick,” he saw Derek look up briefly in the reflection of his screen, “and we’re gunna take him down, I just need more elephants first.” He gave it a minute, letting the chat berate him for ignoring the question they really wanted an answer to. “Besides, it wasn’t a date, Derek said so.”

_“Stiles.”_

Stiles ignored him. He’d already decided he wasn’t telling them shit, but that didn’t mean to say he couldn’t wind Derek up while he was here. “He totally friendzoned me.”

“Stiles!”

“I did sleep with his long lost cousin though, so there’s that. But in my defence, I don’t really remember it, so it totally doesn’t count.”

He really should’ve expected the paperback being launched at his head and yet, alas, he didn’t. “Jesus, _ow._ Human here, d’ya mind?” He scrambled to throw it back, but Derek just caught it, the smug bastard.

“No.”

**xxroadwinning98xx:** holy shit you got laid?   
**JayB:** wait somebody slept with you?   
**JayB:** YOU?   
**xxroadwinning98xx:** dont be an asshole   
**JayB:** yeah but him?   
**baseskill:** why’s that so surprising?

Stiles figured he’d leave JayB to his little fan group (having fans would never get old) and started to hum the funeral march, got confused, and ended up humming the Star Wars theme instead. Eh, it happened.

Some hours later, with Peter completely annihilated from the map — there must be something in the name, honestly, he was a real ass to kill — Stiles lent back in his chair, flush from success, his throat a little dry from how much talking he’d been doing.

**Savisnire:** check out your unwanted guest

“Hm?” He turned around and blinked. Derek was completely passed out on his bed, book open on his chest, his cheeks flushed in sleep. He refused to acknowledge the way his heart skipped a beat and instead seriously debated waking him up, just to be an asshole, but thought better of it.

He had a feeling Derek would wake up swinging.

“Right, on that note then, I’m calling it a night. I’ll see you all next week.” He waited for a couple minutes as the _bye’s_ came through on the chat, before grinning and closing down the stream and then pausing his screen recording. It was something he’d not long since started to do; he’d record his builds, speed them up by about six times, and upload them to YouTube with some royalty free music playing in the background. He’d actually amassed a few others on Twitch by doing this, and granted YouTube didn’t bring that much money in (he had one ad roll in the middle of every video) but he wasn’t about to turn his nose up at some more money.

Even after he’d edited his video, done the thumbnail, and set it to render, Derek was still asleep, looking less severe than usual as he dozed. Yawning, he swung his feet up onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes figuring he’d grab a nap in before kicking Derek out of his bed. Yet when he woke up hours later, Derek was gone and he was sprawled out in his bed. He mumbled something sleepily, rolled over and went right back to sleep.

They didn’t ever talk about it, but from that day if Stiles was home alone, then Derek would turn up, pretend he wanted something, but that _something_ could always wait until after whatever Stiles was doing but by then, Derek didn’t care to bring it up, citing it as too late in the evening to even bother. It was frustrating, because Stiles wanted to know, okay? Not knowing what Derek wanted was driving him to distraction, to the point where he left out incriminating evidence during a stream.

Derek was relaxing on his bed, but it had been a few weeks of him doing this by this point, so he was mostly ignored by Stiles and the people on the stream. Stiles had joked he was apart of the furniture. Derek had retaliated by not taking his dirty boots off before throwing his legs up on his bed.

**Yods:** what’s the book?

Stiles glanced over to the edge of his desk where one of the Argent’s books sat, open on the Kanima page — Jackson had told Lydia he still had his tail, and Lydia had told Stiles and after Stiles had finished laughing, he’d decided to look into if that was like some prelude to Jackson turning into a killing machine again — and he hurriedly flipped it shut. “Just some Grimm’s fairy tale type of book, nothing interesting.”

**Major:** that was a picture of a kanima   
**baseskill:** looks like it should be in a museum of some sort   
**Yods:** wtf is a kanima

Stiles could feel Derek looking at him and he worked to slow down his heart rate, because what the fuck. “So, should we start on destroying France? That Catherine is a real bitch.” So someone knew what a kanima looked like, it didn’t mean anything. Didn’t mean a damn thing. Some people were just really into their myths and legends. The world had allsorts in it, it was no surprise one of them would find their way here.

**Major:** it’s what you can turn into when you’re bitten by a werewolf   
**Glasses_Girl:** lmao okay

“Stiles?”

Stiles flapped a hand over his shoulder. “I think you need to lay off the video games, dude.”

**Major:** that was a hunter’s book   
**Disco:** someone’s hiiiiiigh   
**Major:** you don’t have to believe me   
**baseskill:** thanks for the permission

“Okay well I’m going for France seeing how no one’s got a problem with that.”

**Bashfyl:** dude you know about werewolves too?   
**Major:** i am one   
**Yods:** are the rest of us missing the joke here?   
**Bashfyl:** born or bitten   
**Major:** born.   
**Disco:** yeah and I’m a fairy   
**Major:** i wouldn’t mock the fae if i were you   
**Disco:** LOL what

What the fuck was happening? His world’s were colliding and he _really_ wasn’t about that life. This was _his._ His little slice of normality.

(But for real, don’t mock he fae.)

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Apparently, Derek could only abide the sound of an impending heart attack for so long, given the way he was suddenly hovering behind Stiles.

**Major:** i’m not joking   
**baseskill:** i think stile is right   
**baseskill:** you need to lay off the video games   
**Major:** hey i know who that guy is

The likelihood that some randomer on the internet knowing who Derek was, was incredibly low. But he was also the only one out of his group of friends who had ever left Beacon Hills and lived somewhere else. _Abort mission, abort mission._ “Okay, okay, that’s enough now. Can we get back to game?”

**Major:** that’s derek hale   
**Major:** holy shit i know who YOU are   
**Major:** you have a true alpha you’re legends in ohio.

“Ban him,” Stiles blurted, panicking. “Right now. Mods? Remove and ban him.”

**baseskill:** he’s gone   
**Disco:** what the hell was that?

“That,” Stiles said, feeling a little shocky, “is not okay. I’ve never had to say it before, because I never thought I had to, but don’t _do_ that shit.” His hands were shaking, you couldn’t _write_ this bullshit. Jesus, all it would take was any one of them to google the name _Derek Hale_ and it’d instantly spit out _The Beacon Chronicles_ article all about the Hale fire. They’d know where he lived. God knows how many strangers online could find out all about him, his friends, everything he’d kept close to his chest.

He couldn’t get enough air.

God, his dad was gunna _kill_ him.

“Shut it down.” Stiles jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice, having somehow forgot he was still there. He’d been able to read everything. Or maybe not, he thought, looking at how quickly the chat was moving with people telling him to just breathe. “Shut it _down.”_ The last word was nearly a growl, and Stiles startled, yanking out his camera lead and slamming down the lid to his laptop.

His room was silent, save the sound of Stiles trying to suck enough air into his lungs. “I should’ve denied it.”

“What?”

“Your name,” he could breathe, he could breathe, he could breathe, everything was fine, “he said your name, I should’ve denied it. They know who you are. Because I freaked out.” He could feel his windpipe getting smaller. Who the fuck had that been? And what leaps and bounds had he taken to figure out who Derek was, let alone who Stiles was and what pack he was in. It was short-sighted of him to not consider that werewolves could potentially be watching him too, but seriously, come on. He wanted _one_ nice thing. Was that so much to ask?

God, and he’d been so careful! Like by saying ‘when Scott got popular’ rather than ‘when Scott was bitten by a werewolf and turned into a superhero’ and by swerving the ‘basically Derek’s whole family was murdered by a hunter who set his house on fire with everyone still in it’ by just saying ‘most of his family is dead, he doesn’t like to talk about it, so neither will we’. He kept last names out of everything, never once mentioned what state he lived in and he ignored every time someone guessed, regardless if it was right or wrong. He’d been so _good._

And now some asshole werewolf had ruined everything.

He wheezed.

Why did werewolves ruin everything?

“I need you to breathe.” Great advice, Derek. Not something he’d considered trying before now, thanks for that. Clearly, some of that was transferred across in the look he shot at Derek, because it prompted him to take Stiles’ hand and press it just above his heart. “With me, c’mon, breathe in for four, nice and slow, match me you dramatic little shit.”

Stiles snorted out a surprised burst of laughter and funnily enough, that helped him in the long run to match his breaths with Derek, going through the motions slowly, copying each of Derek’s exaggerated inhales and exhales. He was left a little lightheaded and nauseous afterwards. “I’m not being dramatic,” he panted as his heart rate finally decided to start slowing down. He curled his fingers into Derek’s tee.

“You’re okay, just breathe.”

“I am, you asshole,” he exhaled shakily. “How’re you not freaking out right now?” Derek shrugged and Stiles nearly punched him. “What, some werewolf from presumably Ohio just outed you on Twitch and you don’t even care?”

“Like anyone’s going to believe him.”

“Your _name_ dude. All it’ll take from any of them is a quick Google and they’ll know everything. They’ll know who you are, who my dad is, what school we go to, where we live—”

“—Stop freaking out.”

“My dad’s gunna kill me!”

_“I’ll_ kill you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

“Oh well that’s just great.” He flapped his one hand at Derek while the other refused to untangle itself from Derek’s top. “My options are death by dad or werewolf, great.”

“Listen to me. Your dad doesn’t need to find out and so what if a bunch of people online know who you are.”

“So what? What if one of them is some kind of murdering stalker or, you know, a freaking _werewolf.”_

“Then they’re a murdering stalker or a werewolf.” He tipped his head to one side. “Or both.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at this whole comforting thing? Like, really bad.”

Derek rolled his eyes as though it was Stiles who was being unreasonable here. “We’ve met worse.”

Stiles opened his mouth and then snapped it closed, frowning. That… was actually a good point. He pulled his mouth to one side and made a noise at the back of his throat. That was actually a really good point. “Fair.” Derek nodded, like that solved everything, and moved away from him. “Yeah… yeah you’ve got a point. And I can just remind them that my dad has a gun so no one should come knocking.”

“Not exactly what I was thinking, but sure.”

That really shouldn’t’ve made him feel better, but he found himself grinning across to Derek anyway, letting out a huff of laughter when Derek just cocked a smirk in reply. “Yeah, alright big guy. Shut up.”

He did shut up, by throwing himself back onto Stiles’ bed and picking up the book he’d discarded when he went to see what was up, looking oddly smug with himself.

He (nearly) missed his next stream, and not because he was injured, but because he couldn’t face the questions. So when Derek climbed through his window that Wednesday, he cast a confused look at his laptop that was closed and pushed to one side, but didn’t comment on it. He just ignored Stiles doing his homework and plonked himself down in his spot, picked up his book, and continued on where he left off.

He watched Derek’s toes wiggle in his socks. “This is weird, isn’t this weird?”

“What?”

“Uh, you. Being here. Every other night.” He pulled a face. “Reading.”

“You read all the time, it’s not that weird.”

“That’s _not_ what’s weird!” He launched his pen at Derek, who caught it and then tossed it back at him. It pinged off his forehead. “I thought you’d be all about spending time with Cora, or annoying Scott. Or anyone else. Literally anyone else but me.”

“I do that too.”

“So what’s this?”

“Wolves are very tactile creatures.”

“What a lovely non-sequitur.”

Derek levelled him a flat look and then continued on like Stiles hadn’t interrupted him. “I’ve lost two packs because I didn’t speak up.” Stiles winced. “I’m not about to let that happen again.”

“I mean, in your defence, the first time was kinda not your fault.”

“And the second?”

“Look, a lot was going on.” He spoke around the pen cap he’d jammed into his mouth to chew. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, there was.”

“Regardless. Wolves. Werewolves. We’re tactile. We like being around pack.”

He chewed on his pen lid for a couple more seconds, feeling stupid. “Is that all this is?”

“You tell me.”

The thing is he’d had that _I could be!_ moment with his dad, the _the only one who doesn’t know you’re bi, is you_ talk with Lydia, and the _do_ **_you_ ** _like both?_ with Caitlin and he’d tease and flirt with pretty much any guy or girl who gave him the time, but he didn’t know if he was really bi. Mostly because up until Junior Year he hadn’t exactly thought bi was a thing.

Like sure, it was a _thing_. People could like both guys and girls, absolutely. But he’d always figured you’d like one gender at a time? Or something. And he’d liked Lydia since Third Grade ever since she glided over to him and demanded that he help her carry something, so color him confused when half way through his Junior Year he found himself getting distracted by guys.

And he’d always been honest, if a dude was good looking then he was good looking. You didn’t have to be bi or gay or pan or whatever to appreciate someone looking good. It’s something else though to have a wet dream that involved beard burn and some dude giving you a blowjob. And it’s not like liking both guys and girls is confusing — it’s fundamentally basic at its core — and yet here he was, _confused_.

Did he really like Derek _that_ way (because so far he’s the only one that’s ever prompted him to ask Danny if he was attractive to guys) and was that why he’d got all butt hurt — shut up giggling, brain — when Derek had snapped back so quickly about his date joke? Because Derek was like, as far out of his league as Lydia, but that didn’t mean he wanted it slammed into his face. And besides, Derek was also kinda an asshole.

Except not all the time.

Like when he dragged him to Ruby’s for something to eat, because he was worried; or like how after after pack meetings he’d growl out a threat about keeping up with homework; how he’d tucked him into bed, and how he’d helped him through a panic attack; even the time Derek body slammed him onto the couch last week after he stood up and offered his spot and Stiles had refused. The execution of forcing Stiles to take his seat was a little, uh, heavy handed, sure. But it had also been kind of sweet.

Maybe he was reading too much into this? Maybe he wasn’t bi, just bi-curious and he’s such an attention whore that he’s mistaking attention for affection? God knows he’d been accused of that enough.

He looked over to Derek, who looked up when he felt eyes on him and raised a brow. “What?”

_God_ , he was stupidly attractive though.

“I think I like you.” Uh. That had meant to be an inside thought.

Derek blinked at him. “Okay.”

“No,” _shut up, Stiles,_ “I mean, I think I _like_ , like you.”

“What’re you, twelve?”

“Sexuality is confusing, okay! I don’t know if you’re a fear boner or boner boner, I just know you’re involved in the boners but I don’t know what type of boner.”

“Stop saying boner.”

“The boner distinction is very important! Fear boners must be ignored,” it was like as soon as his brain had heard ‘don’t say it’ it immediately wouldn’t let him think of any other word, “we don’t encourage fear boners. _Boner_ boners can be, but only when it’s appropriate. ”

“Stiles.”

“Shit, I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I? I bet my hormonal boy funk,” he waved his hands in the air, “is all up in your junk right now.”

“I’m uncomfortable _for_ you.”

“I—” to be fair, Derek looked just as relaxed as before, ankles slightly crossed as he lounged on his bed, but then again he was no doubt used to people essentially hitting on him. Clearly any hormonal stink he was giving off didn’t bother Derek. “Appreciate that?”

Derek flipped the book he’d been reading back open, moving his thumb away no longer needing it as a temporary bookmark. “I think I like you too.”

Hold the front door, excuse him. “What kind of like?” he demanded.

“Reading now. Get back to your homework.”

Stiles sucked on his teeth and stayed twisted around to face him, giving the stink eye for a good minute until he figured Derek wasn’t going to look up. He managed to turn around and reread the same paragraph four times before he found himself spinning his whole chair back around to face him. “But is it like like, or _like_ like?”

“I’m not twelve.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Derek sighed and looked up. “I like you.” He barrelled on when Stiles opened his mouth and cut him off. “I can like you and still happily pin your head to your desk and continue reading no matter how much noise you make or failing you do.”

Okay, fair point. He licked his lips. “So you like me.”

“Yes.”

“And I might like you.”

“Apparently so.” Stiles could feel his heart rate pick up slightly and his stomach swooped. _Oh._ Derek cocked his head to one side as Stiles continued to stare at him. “Anything else?” He shook his head, battling down an inner smile. “Good. Get back to your homework.”

He did. But not before texting Lydia to let her know he was having a bi-teenaged crisis right now. (He’d text Scott, but Scott got all squirrely whenever he tried to talk about stuff like this.)

**Lydia** _(6:33pm):_ How far into it are you?  
**Stiles** _(6:33pm):_ i got fucking BUTTERFLIES  
**Stiles** _(6:33pm):_ how far do you think??  
**Lydia** _(6:34pm):_ Oh, is that all? Do you need some links?  
**Stiles** _(6:34pm):_ what kind of links?  
**Stiles** _(6:34pm):_ dare i ask?  
**Lydia** _(6:34pm):_ Porn, Stiles.

Girls watched porn? Dumb question brain, of course they did. That was both weird and hot at the same time. He shook his head, _not the time brain. Later._

**Stiles** _(6:35pm):_ omg  
**Stiles** _(6:35pm):_ you watch porn  
**Stiles** _(6:35pm):_ and you want to give me porn you watch  
**Stiles** _(6:35pm):_ 15 yr old me is having a stroke right now brb  
**Lydia** _(6:37pm):_ Was that a yes or a no?

He mouthed wordlessly at his phone.

**Stiles** _(6:37pm):_ well not right now jfc derek’s here  
**Lydia** _(6:38pm):_ Because he’s never watched porn before.

Oh good lord, that was not an image he needed.

**Stiles** _(6:38pm):_ NOT HELPING  
**Lydia** _(6:38pm):_ We’ll agree to disagree. I’ll email you a list.  
**Stiles** _(6:39pm):_ dont you dare

His phone buzzed a moment later, the little banner at the top proudly reading:

**Lydia Martin** ****  
**Porn**   
As discussed - https://www.pornhu

That was about as far as he got before he all but tossed his phone away from him, as though by reading it then Derek would know and even by just thinking **that,** he guiltily looked over his shoulder. Derek was ignoring him, that was good. Deciding to send off one last text before he really got into his work, he leant forward and snatched his phone back up.

**Stiles** _(6:41pm):_ i hate you  
**Lydia** _(6:41pm):_ I’ll see you tomorrow, let me know what you think.

“Oh my god.” When he chanced a glance at Derek, their eyes caught before he turned back around again and whispered, quieter and more heartfelt than before, _“Oh my god.”_

(The porn was very… varied, and he couldn’t look Lydia in the eye for at least two days, or at least not without going scarlet.)

Nothing more was said, at least not that evening, and Derek left once he’d finished his homework without even mentioning their conversation which, okay, fair. It’s not like his homework took even longer than usual to do because his brain was backflipping over the possibility that Derek Hale actually _like_ liked him or anything, off you go Broody Brows.

“Oh god, I’m turning into _Scott.”_

With that frankly horrifying thought in his head, he opened up his laptop and decided to log into Steam and then Twitch, plugging both his mic and camera in as he did before starting the stream. People instantly began flooding in, which was always a headrush.

**xxxroadwinning98xx:** hey you’re here! :D   
**bi_bi_bi:** i was just about to go to bed, i thought you’d ditched us man   
**Yods:** everything okay?

He loaded up _RollerCoster Tycoon_ and let the chat fill with messages for a moment, fiddling with his headset for the lack of anything better for his hands to do. “Look, you guys can talk about whatever you want, werewolves or my obsession with plaid — I’ve read the chat logs, I’ve seen it all, oh **_ho,_ ** don’t think I’ve not — but if you somehow figure out who me, or my friends are, don’t pull shit like that asshole last week. I love hanging out with you all, but if that’s what’s gunna happen because of me running my mouth, then I just won’t do this anymore.”

**Yods:** that guy was a dick   
**baseskill:** a bunch of us reported him to twitch when you logged off   
**baseskill:** and if he somehow comes back, we’ll just ban him again

Stiles smiled, but it was short lived. “I feel the overwhelming need to remind you all that my dad’s a sheriff and is licensed to carry a gun. And also, if he finds out, my ass is grounded until I’m forty and he’ll just straight up rip the router out because he doesn’t know how to change the password.”

**bi_bi_bi:** we get it dw   
**Disco:** no one’s going to do anything   
**amazingauguastina:** we’ve got your back dude

“Thanks guys.” He still felt incredibly twitchy about the whole thing, to the point where he figured he needed more mods in the chat to police it, which was such a ballache. All this because one person couldn’t keep their damn mouth shut. Or their fingers still. Whatever, same thing. “Okay, enough about that, we’d just finished off this coaster last time we played. I’m thinking something mine related, because a good wooden coaster deserves some terraforming, am I right?”

Things pretty much went back to normal after that. No one else surprised dropped in to offer up people’s full names, even if there were some who were stuck on the whole werewolf thing, a small little group of them who’d chatter between themselves, especially if he turned up a little bruised, but he ignored it all and let the others laugh at them.

The dude who thought he was in the mob was still the only one who thought that, which kinda bummed him out a little.

The only comment he’d given on the whole thing had been, “How is that more people think I’m involved in werewolf,” he made sure to make his tone mocking, “mojo than in the mafia? Like, how is that a thing?” Which then turned into a three hour discussion on exactly _why_ he couldn’t be involved in the mafia.

Someone said he talked too much, so he’d totally have been ‘knocked off’ by now if he was actually in the mob. Which, firstly rude, but also, yeah, fair.

But things in Beacon Hills couldn’t stay smooth sailing forever, because that was clearly asking the universe for too much. Nomad hunters had found their way here — which, if they were apparently fricking legends in Ohio, it’d stand to reason their supernaturalness had spread to and from other states too — and decided to fuck shit up. On a Wednesday too, which double fuck them.

Granted, in the grand scheme of things, they’d gotten rid of them pretty sharpish, like hunters by now were just child’s play given some of the shit they’d been up against, but that was totally besides the point. He’d got _shot_ in the _arm_ — okay, it was graze, and it had already stopped bleeding — all because he’d tackled one of those knuckle heads to the floor before he could pop a shot off at Scott who’d been busy pinning a different knuckle head to the ground.

When he’d stormed in, some ten minutes ago and took the stairs two at a time to get to his room, he’d answered his dad’s incredulous and worried, _“Is that blood?_ ” with a panted, “Not mine!” before slamming his door closed. The first aid kit underneath his desk sorted his arm out real quick, even if pouring on the hydrogen peroxide had nearly made him cry, and it didn’t much matter that the bandage was sloppily done because he had a theme park to build and no hunter was making him miss that.

He’d just finished setting up, when Derek came through his window like an angry storm cloud; instead heading towards the bed, he charged towards Stiles and Stiles, panicking, scrambled away. “What? What! Holy shit dude, I thought we were past this, what’s with the murder eyes?”

Derek crowded him against the wall, his arms bracketing Stiles’ head. He looked pissed. “What the _hell_ was that?”

“What? What the hell was what?”

His voice was nearly all growl. “You got shot.”

“So did you.”

“I heal!”

He jutted his jaw. “So do I, genius. Just because it’s slower doesn’t mean shit.” He went to move, but Derek had him slammed back against the wall, his hands now on Stiles’ hips. Oh, okay. “Uhhh…”

“I want to punch you in your teeth.”

“I’m a big fan of Stony, this isn’t turning me off.”

Derek looked at him as though he’d grown another head. “What?”

“Stony. Steve, Tony, fanfiction. ‘I want to punch you in your perfect teeth’, don’t tell me you didn’t read the UST there. What century are you living in?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Dude I dunno, but you’ve got your hands all up in my junk,” he gestured to himself, and to where Derek’s hands were against his waist, “and I think my brain’s short circuited.”

“You keep telling everyone it was a date.”

Stiles winced. “Dick move, huh?”

“Yeah.” Stiles audibly swallowed when Derek tugged him forwards slightly. “Now people think I don’t shell out for a first date.”

“What?”

“Ruby’s for a first date? Really, Stiles?”

The cheese he’d had on his sandwich for lunch _had_ been bad, he knew it. He should’ve thrown it away rather than picking the mold off it. “I think I’m having a stroke.”

“You infuriate me.” Was Derek’s face getting closer? “You never shut up.”

Their noses brushed and Jesus Christ, his heart felt like it was about to explode. “That’s me,” his voice broke on the last word and he felt himself flush. “I don’t have an off button. Scott says I talk in my sleep too.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispered, his words ghosting across the shell of his ear; he shivered. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, yep, shutting up n—”

Derek was kissing him.

_Derek Hale was kissing him._

And Stiles was just standing there wide eyed and shocked and holy shit dude, get with the fucking program!

He made a noise against Derek’s mouth, grabbed his arm and pressed up into the kiss, eyes closing, stomach twisting when Derek’s tongue ran against the seam of his lips and wow, okay, sure yeah, this was a thing. He was making out with Derek.

And if Derek was allowed to grab his ass, haul him close, then surely that meant he could grab Derek’s too? Before he could second guess himself, he did just that and gave it a squeeze for good measure which must’ve been secret werewolf talk for ‘please push me against a wall and ravage my throat like I’m some 1930’s fair maiden’.

He wasn’t even mad about it.

He may have even tipped his head to the side for easier access, but that was between him and Derek.

And apparently his dad.

**_What._ **

His heart must’ve done something funky because Derek pulled back, looking alarmed and Stiles, for a lack of anything else to do, just screamed, “Hi dad!” loud enough that they both flinched.

“Derek,” his dad muttered, jamming his finger in his ear and giving it a good wiggle.

“Sheriff.”

“Uh huh. Underaged son,” John bounced back with, in both greeting and observation, nodding his head down to where Derek’s hands were gripping Stiles’ hips. Derek snatched them away like they’d been burned. “So,” he raised a brow at his son, “I guess in that shirt, huh?”

Stiles just beamed, probably only looking mildly terrified, red-faced and mortified, and _oh god, his hands were still on Derek’s ass._ The speed in which he pulled them off and then slapped them against the wall, palms down, was practically inhuman. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“So you weren’t just licking Derek’s back teeth against your bedroom wall while molesting him?”

_Goddamnit_ where was a homonym when you needed one? “Uh.”

“Family meeting, now.” His dad smiled, clapping his hands. That was not a friendly smile. “We’ve got some new rules to go over. Derek,” Stiles would honestly laugh at the way Derek’s eyes widened, but people in glass houses and all that, “seeing how you’re now a probationary member, this’ll be your first meeting. Cell phones are sacrificed before sitting down at the table. You boys have three minutes to have your assess in that dining room, hands where I can see them, or so help you both.” He stood there giving them a stern look for a second before he nodded, turned on his heel and strolled off downstairs, pointedly resting his hands on his holster as he walked.

Stiles immediately burst out into hysterical, nervous laughter.

Derek slapped his hand over his mouth, looking horrified as he glanced towards the stairs. “Are you trying to get me shot?” He only moved his hand when Stiles stopped giggling, with a warning look and everything.

_“Oh my god.”_ He started to laugh again, feeling a little shaky. “Oh my god, that was horrifying, I had a semi in front of my _dad.”_ Derek snorted and then pretended he hadn’t, knocking their foreheads together. Stiles laughed breathlessly, giddy. “I think my dick’s trying to be an innie belly button right now, holy shit, Derek. How didn’t you hear him? Am I _that_ distracting?”

Derek pressed a kiss to one of the hickies he’d sucked onto his neck, and Stiles shivered at the ache. “Shut up.” He nudged his nose against the underside of Stiles’ jaw before pulling away. “We better get downstairs.”

“Yeah.” Stiles grinned and danced his fingers against the palm of Derek’s hand. “If it’s any consolation, I think he likes you.” At Derek’s dubious look, he linked their fingers together and pulled him out of his bedroom. “He does. Being a probationary member of the Stilinski family is a Pretty Big Deal, dude. We’ve been a two man band for years, no one’s ever come close to being an _anything_ member. This is invite only, my man.”

Derek looked like he didn’t quite know what to do with that information, but the little squeeze he gave Stiles’ hand let him know that Derek got it.

Some hours later after a very awkward and quite possibly the most embarrassing family meeting ever (beating out the previous one, which involved a discussion about how Stiles’ jacking off in the shower was clogging up the drains, just for context here), Stiles finally collapsed in a heap in the middle of his bed, groaning like a dying whale.

Derek had gone home, shaking his dad’s hand at the door and manfully nodding at Stiles, and his dad was happily sat in front of the television with a beer, watching a game, no doubt feeling very proud of himself.

He made another whale noise and rolled over onto his side, when a light on his desk caught his attention; he pushed himself up onto his elbows, cocking his head to one side, confused. That was his camera light. Why was his camera light on? When had he turned that o—

“—You’ve got to be shitting me.”

He’d turned that on just before Derek arrived. Because it was Wednesday. He streamed on Wednesday’s, hunters or not. He’d logged into Twitch, loaded Steam up, _turned his fucking camera on_ and started broadcasting _._

Panicking, he threw himself off his bed and then rolled underneath it.

Well shit, now what.

Why the fuck had he done that?

With nothing better to do, he shuffled deeper underneath his bed. He’d made his bed and now he had to lie, er, under it. There was a lot of shuffling and flopping about involved and when no matter how much he shifted and whatever it was poking at his ass didn’t move, he managed to roll himself over to check out what was assaulting him.

It was the mini vacuum he’d liberated from the station after seeing his dad clean his desk with it because he’d wanted a piece of that action. It was the older type with a plug socket and not a USB end, which made it _powerful_ and given Stiles’ perchance for snacks, it had been a match made in crumbly heaven. Until the damn thing had stopped working properly and he’d meant to find a YouTube tutorial on how to fix it because it had been _awesome_ , okay? Best thing he’d stolen to date. But with werewolves making themselves known, he just hadn’t had the time to get around to it and clearly he’d just forgotten about the poor thing.

Hold the fuck up.

It wasn’t that it was broken, it was just that whenever he’d plug it in it would trip all the sockets. Cuddling it to his chest, he rolled over and eyed the plug socket behind his bedside table.

Less than a minute later, there was a shout from downstairs as all the electronics in the house died. “Stiles, goddamnit, was that you again?” Including the TV.

As well as the router.

“Sorry dad!”

“Aw, c’mon kid, they were at the end zone!”

He unplugged the vacuum and sighed gustily before shuffling out from underneath his bed, brushing off dust bunnies galore. He could hear his dad moving around downstairs, looking for a flashlight.

He was safe. Disaster averted.

Well, for now at least.

Running a hand down his face, he eyed his laptop before striding over and slamming the lid closed; he stood looking at it for a good minute, as though it had personally betrayed him.

Jesus.

He so wasn’t looking forward to logging on next week.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As before, please lemme know if you see any dodgy sentences or mixed up words, an editor I am not and I really appreciated it last time. Especially if you see any Britishisms, let me know. I tried to catch them all. The next one that'll be added at some point (I ain't giving a time frame because I'll ignore it, I'm that type of person, I'm sorry) as mentioned will be Scott and Stiles time if anyone's interested.
> 
> Oh! Also! The fear boner line Stiles says is from a fic I read, I'm totally not cool enough to think of fear boners of my own, and for the life of me I can’t remember what naffing fic it was!! I’ll look through my reading list to try and find it and as soon as I do, I’ll link. Unless one of you get there before me that is. But yeah, that so isn't my idea. It's some genius out in the great vast web.
> 
> **Edit 30/06/2019:** fixed some squiffy formatting and did some edits as per the lovely starlard's keen eye! And whilst I'm here, the kudos and feedback? So awesome, thank you so much for reading my trash, I really appreciate it!


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